The Broodje Kroket and Emotional Distress

“Why am I putting these into a sandwich?” I thought to myself as I constructed my Broodje Kroket. A blasphemous thought, perhaps, especially within the context of Tribunal research, but the heart feels what it feels. “These seem like they should be eaten by themselves. Croquettes seem like finger food to begin with, contained within a shell of breading for the convenience of the consumer. Why am I wrapping them in even more bread?”

I felt guilty. I didn’t trust myself to build a croquette with anything that might have resembled structural integrity, despite Jim’s successful demonstration of such. Instead, I paid a visit to a local eatery that I knew I could count on to construct a croquette for me, specifically a pair of the delicious salmon croquettes which appear on their menu. I overheard the cooks after the waitress had placed my order. “Croquettes… to go?” Who in their right mind would order something like that to go? My guilt kept me from being forthcoming with my intentions. “I just need croquettes, okay! Get off my back! The customer is always right, right? RIGHT?”

Prior to my croquette purchase, I had stopped at my neighborhood grocer to procure some sort of hopefully appropriate bread, and ended up with some large-ish onion rolls. I knew that time would be of the essence, getting everything home and constructing a sandwich while the croquettes were still as hot and fresh as possible.

Things went as well as they could have. The croquettes were served on a bed of pesto with a drizzle of balsamic. I decided that these things would serve as well as anything as sandwich accoutrements.

Salmon croquettes, not yet tainted by the whims of a madman.

I split one of the rolls. It turned out the roll was just about the right size to hold both croquettes. I spread the pesto on the top half of the roll and realigned top of roll with bottom. I have to admit, it looks decent. More than decent, even. It looks good.

Maybe it was bias due to my preconceptions, but the whole time I was eating I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d done something wrong, inadvertently insulted someone’s good name. Sure, the fish is delicious, it’s salmon, of course it’s delicious. The balsamic got lost in the shuffle, though. The pesto is providing some texture, but the flavor is getting a little lost in all this bread. Shouldn’t there be more crunch from the croquette breading? Maybe I should have thinned the rolls a bit. Maybe I should have toasted the bread a little. Maybe I should have just left well enough alone. Maybe I should have just eaten the croquettes as they came. I’m not questioning the Broodje Kroket as a concept; folks in the Netherlands are no fools after all. But in this case, I can’t shake the feeling that I should have left well enough alone. Nobody ever said all of these sandwiches would be good for the heart, after all.

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